All Our Hurt Is Now Our History
by tatterdemalion
Summary: In the end, Katya only tasted power.' Stories about Ukraine and her history
1. Ems Ukaz

Ivan watched his sister from across the desk; he watched her turn the page with one slender hand, pause, turn back, pale eyebrows furrowed on an otherwise clear face.

The document was in Russian - Ivan had done this on purpose, and watched Katya stumble through it, fingers trembling under the careful examination.

"You're not serious." Katya said when she was finished - she pushed the document away from her with the tips of her fingers, a disgusted motion. Ivan tilted his head.

"I am perfectly serious." he replied softly. He watched his older sister tremble and then, with a tone that belied the facade of calm intent, pleaded, "Please, Ivan, I can't do this to them. It's important to us that we keep what is ours - "

"You don't need it." Ivan interrupted. He placed his hand over hers, cool leather against her flesh. Katya shivered. "It is irrelevant, you don't need it. Russian will work just as well..."

"It's irrelevant?" Katya repeated, and slid her hand out from under his. Ivan sighed, a patronizing sound, and Katya felt heat rise to her face. "Ivan, it's my _language_. It's...why don't you understand that?"

"It's not a _real_ language, Katya." Ivan explained, patiently, like he was berating a child.

Hot pricks gathered in the corners of her vision. "You always say that." she accused breathlessly. "I trusted you, Ivan. You told me...you understood, you promised you would work with me, and now you throw _this_ in my face?" she gestured wildly at the document, voice rising in pitch and volume.

"Katya." Ivan's voice was cold and she stilled, suddenly fearful. His hand was back, he had taken off his gloves - Katya could feel the cold through her skin.

"You took care of me when I was young." Ivan told her, and his free hand reached up to rest lightly on his scarf. "Now it's my turn to take care of you. You'll see. I'm doing this for you. Don't be ungrateful."

Katya could never argue with Ivan, not even when they were children. She lowered her eyes to the desk, could just make out the document's heading at the top of the page - _Эмский указ._

"It's for the best." came Ivan's reassuring voice, and the words seeped into her head like the cold into her skin. She wanted to cry, or throw up, or both. Betrayal rolled in her stomach.

"Yes," she murmured, and remembered - remembered folk songs and stories and poems (all gone, all taken away like her land and her identity and her Ukraine).

"It's for the best."

* * *

_"The importation into the Russian Empire, without special permission of the Central Censorship over Printing, of all books and pamphlets in the Little Russian dialect, published abroad, is forbidden"_ - Ems Ukaz, May 1876

* * *

The Ems Ukaz (Эмский указ) was a decree signed by Tsar Alexander II of Russia in 1876 banning the use of the "Little Russian" dialect (Ukrainian) in print. Russia did not consider Ukrainian to be an actual language and feared separation attempts if people became too proud of the Ukrainian culture, and this was part of a wide spread "Russification" campaign that was taking place.

The decree was lifted in 1905, restored again in 1910, and was never re-lifted (it became void after the Russian revolutions of 1917/1918).

Ukraine signed a "protection" treaty with Russia in 1654, but that quickly turned into tsarist control over the country.

I think that Katya felt deeply hurt and betrayed by her little brother throughout history - the relationship between Ivan and his sisters is so awful because of all the things that have happened between the Ukraine, Belarus and Russia. I would really like to see more stories detailing their relationship - then again, anything involving Russia and its relationship with neighboring countries is usually very, very tragic.


	2. Kievan Rus'

Ukraine means "border-land". Katya does not forget her roots, when she was not yet herself, not yet fully formed, balanced precariously in the mess of Kievan Rus'. She had other siblings - Chorna Rus'; Cherven' Rus'; Belarus, such a darling angel in white with feathery hair and clear blue eyes. Katya would carry her around and whisper to her, whisper her stories about the people who had come before.

Sometimes when it gets hard for Katya to look at her brother, she remembers when they _did_ used to be one, completely and without all this mess - did Vanya forget or was he simply striving to replicate? Either way, sometimes Katya closes her eyes in the darkness of her bedroom and thinks back to when life was simpler and she could feel their three hearts beating, simultaneously, within her land.

She remembers her Vladimirs, oh yes she does. Her _Volodymyr_ who brought her a different deity to worship and love, and the Grand Prince Monomakh who tried so hard but simply couldn't stop Katya from ripping apart.

That was what she felt like. Rus', her Rus' (because she _feels_ like it was hers, not Natalia's or Vanya's, just Katya's Kievan Rus'), was shifting and changing and tearing so swiftly that sometimes she had to stop and gasp for breath. This is what it feels like, she realizes, to be so big and to have so much that people just aren't satisfied anymore.

(and maybe she can sympathize with Vanya years and years later, when he comes to her with eyes wide and babbling about the Romanovs and the blood in the square and _oh Anastasia, I couldn't save you_ and she thinks, _no, I couldn't save _you_, Vanya_)

She was foolish enough to believe, of course, that after a while the pain would become bearable, even when her people within their states were fighting and arguing and _expanding_ beyond her level of comfort. But she could never push past the searing pain of Natalia, little Natalia, standing there with her head held high and her little doll mouth set in a look of concentration Katya would see for many years, and

(_autonomy autonomy_)

would echo in her silence. Up north, Vanya surfaced, like a pin prick, like a reminder (_сестра, _don't forget about _me_). Katya felt like she was trying to carry water in a sieve while it spilled out the sides in a desperate bid. It made her crazy sometimes, trying to elbow the water back in

(_scoop_ at the stream, _drip drip_ to the house, _hurry_ or mama won't have _water_ for the _dinner_...)

and eventually it wasn't enough.

(Katya still has the scar over her heart from where her skin bubbled up in the heat of the flames of war)

Her people, her people. They left, they fled, or they were killed, ground to dust under all the sieges. Katya would curl in on herself and wish to die, and Natalia would be there to comb her hair, whispering in her ear, "That's it, the end, that's it".

Vanya would tug on the ends of Katya's scarf and wonder.

In the end, Katya only tasted power.

* * *

**HISTORICAL NOTES:**

-Kievan Rus' was a medieval state existing from 880 to around the 12th century. It was centered around the city of Kiev and was thought to be the predecessor of Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine.

-Vladimir the Great (the first Volodymyr she is remembering) helped instill Christianity in Ukraine and surrounding areas in the 988 period. It was called the _Christianization of Kievan Rus_'. The second, Vladimir Monomakh, was the Grand Prince of Kievan Rus' until his death in 1125.

-Around the beginning of the 12th century, things started to go to shit for poor ol' Kievan Rus'. Principalities expressed discontent. Some expanded their reign. One principality named Polotsk kept harping on autonomy for Belarus, and it was around this time that the city of Moscow appeared in historical records.

-Kiev took some hard hits. In 1169 it was sacked by the Vladimir principality, then _again_ by the Cumans in the 12th century and the Mongols in the 13th.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Yes, I realize that Kievan Rus' encompassed so much more land than simply the Ukraine, so it wouldn't be just Katya who felt all of this, but it was centered around Kiev and Katya is the eldest of the siblings so I think she was the most coherent of the three to understand just what was happening. I find it funny how once, Katya felt like Ivan did, with all this land and all these people, and when things turned sour and people began elbowing their way in to acquire some of the land, Katya might have gone just a little insane.

Also, I am appreciating the fact that these drabbles are in no order whatsoever. I started off in the 1890s and ended up way back in the 12th century. WHATEVER, I TRIED MY HARDEST.


End file.
